


Seaside Temptations

by queenhomeslice



Series: Polyship Roadtrip: Reader/Chocobros [4]
Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Alternate Universe, Bartender Reader, Beach Holidays, Chubby Reader, Curvy Reader, Drinking, Flirting, Multi, OT4 + 1, OT5, Polyamory, Tiki Bar, fat reader, plus size reader
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-07
Updated: 2020-08-07
Packaged: 2021-03-05 19:27:15
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,246
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25770580
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/queenhomeslice/pseuds/queenhomeslice
Summary: You get four very interesting visitors at your tiki bar one summer day.
Relationships: Gladiolus Amicitia/Prompto Argentum/Noctis Lucis Caelum/Ignis Scientia/Reader
Series: Polyship Roadtrip: Reader/Chocobros [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1788748
Comments: 15
Kudos: 45





	Seaside Temptations

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I am not affiliated with Square Enix or any production studios behind the Final Fantasy franchise or Final Fantasy XV; I am not making money from this work and I do not own the rights to FF in any way.
> 
> I've felt very blah about my writing this week. Idk. Have this I guess. End of summer vibes, or whatever.

Working at a tiki bar on the coast of Lucis isn’t exactly the job you expected to have when leaving university, but being a bartender pays the bills, at any rate. And besides, working in a more private, secluded town than Galdin Quay has much more appeal to those who can afford it and value the privacy—foreign dignitaries, nobles, even royalty. They pay top dollar for private villas with a view, nestled in between the beach houses that hold trust-fund kids on holiday and newlyweds on their honeymoon. With the Quay being only fifteen miles down the road, though, there’s often a lot of crossover in visitors, with people driving just a little bit further to see what other niche treasures lay along the coast. 

Today is a day like any other—the tiki bar between the luxurious pool and the crisp white beach opens at 10 am, and there are already people laying out by the pool; mostly influencers or sugar babies, from the looks of their accessories and Gucci bathing suits that aren’t actually made for swimming. You chuckle to yourself as you open up the bar, unlocking the liquor cabinets and counting the cash drawer, wiping down the counter and turning on the fan that keeps you cool. 

You watch throughout the morning as people come and go, from the pool to the luxury hotel and back, from the beach to the pool, and it’s the usual snobby crowd, but hey, at least they tip big. The bar fills up pretty quickly right after opening, with some people taking up a stool for hours and nursing several cocktails. As you’re preparing drinks, a group of men catch your eye and you try not to stare at them. It’s a group of four men—two tall ones with two shorter ones around the same height. Gorgeous bodies, perfect hair, laughing and talking with each other like they’ve been friends their whole lives. You can’t help but get distracted while watching them, wondering if they’re going to come up for a drink—or, your phone number. 

“Good afternoon, darling” you hear from the other end of the bar. 

You slide a sangria over to the Instagram model in front of you, and turn, wiping your hands on the towel that’s threaded through your short jean shorts. Instantly, you feel your cheeks heat up. The man is drop-dead gorgeous, with spiked-up sandy-brown hair, piercing green eyes behind silver-rimmed glasses, full lips and a chiseled jawline that could cut diamonds. And gods, that _accent_. 

The man’s luscious mouth ticks up at one end into a smirk that has you instantly weak at the knees. Mechanically, you cross the ten feet to the other side of the bar, where he’s leaned over with both elbows on the polished wood. The skull pendant that’s dipping between his collarbones is a stark contrast to his smooth, creamy skin—damn, and here you thought you were used to seeing hot shirtless men nearly twenty-four seven. Apparently not. 

Somehow, your brain forms words. “Hi, uh...what can I get you?” 

The man, to your surprise, ogles you with no hint of restraint or remorse. You’re finding that you really don’t mind. He licks his lips. “A _sex on the beach_?” 

_Boy, would I love to do that_ , your dirty mind spits out. You swallow hard, nodding. “Uh, yeah sure.” It hits you that he’s part of the group of four that you saw running out to the ocean just an hour beforehand. You prepare the drink slowly, not wanting to give him any reason to doubt your drink-mixing abilities. When you’re done, you slide it over to him, waiting with bated breath as he sips it. 

He licks his lips and hums in appreciation, the deep rumble sending a ripple of goosebumps from your head to your toes. “Exquisite. A perfect drink. You certainly know what you’re doing.” 

The four other patrons at the tiki bar decide to all leave at once—weird, it’s rare for there to be empty seats. But you’re grateful for once as you collect the cash left on the bar as payment and tips—it's just you and the ultra-posh hunk. You find yourself desperately wishing for his friends to join. Hot people run in groups— _that_ much you’ve learned from years of working at a tourist destination. 

"Yeah, I, um. Been running this stand for a few years now.” 

“Oh?” he raises an eyebrow. “I see. No wonder you’re so good.” He slowly sips the cocktail as you wipe down the counter and lean over it next to him, eyeing the other three in the distance frolicking about in the shallow ocean near the shore. 

“Your friends care for a drink, too?” you ask, jerking your head in their direction. 

The man leans back and smirks. “If you’re amenable to the idea, then why not?” 

Your brain can’t help but think that you’d be down for _anything_ this beautiful stranger suggests. 

The man turns on the stool and whistles piercing note, waving after he drops his hand—and the other three come jogging. 

You stare in awe as they approach— _who_ let this hunky tattooed beefcake out of the house with no supervision?! And the shorter, slender blond with the violet-blue eyes and constellations of freckles on his face is about the most adorable thing you’ve ever seen. The fourth and final member of the party has jet-black hair, stormy blue eyes, and lean, rippling muscle—but you can’t stop staring at his face. You _know_ that face. It’s been in almost every tabloid in Lucis from Insomnia to Lestallum for the last twenty years. 

_Crown Prince Noctis Lucis Caelum_ _is in_ my _tiki bar_ , your brain keeps screaming. You can’t believe it. He sits, along with his other friends, and then-- 

“Waaaaah, Specs, it’s _hot_ ,” the prince whines as he lets his head _thunk_ on the bar. 

“Buddy, c’mon! We’re on vacation, at the _beach_ ,” the blond laughs, slapping him on the back like it’s nothing to touch royalty. “It’s _supposed_ to be hot, that’s why the ocean has such an appeal!” 

“Quit’cher bitchin’, Princess” says tanned beach daddy with the eagle tattoo. “Look, there’s a pretty girl in front of you, waiting to make you a drink. You gonna be a man or what?” 

You flush as you look at him—he winks, and oh boy, there goes every rational and functioning brain cell you woke up with this morning. 

The prince lazily lifts his head and stares at you, face turning a slight shade of pink. He’s almost as red as his blond friend, who is _definitely_ checking you out, eyes wide and jaw slightly slack. Damn, he’s cute—they're _all_ cute. What wet dream are you even having right now? 

“Uh,” says the prince. “Can I just...have a coke.” 

Tanned beach daddy rolls his eyes. “Give him a _sand in your shorts_ ,” he says. 

“Gladio,” the prince whines. 

“You’ll like it, trust me.” 

“Oh, oh! I’ll have uuuuhhhh...” the pretty blond peers up at the chalkboard menu behind you with squinted eyes. “I’ll have a hurricane!” 

“Blondie, I’m not sure that’s a good idea. You’re such a lightweight, and that drink has three kinds of alcohol.” Tanned beach daddy—Gladio?--turns to you. “Better make his a virgin, sweetheart—to match him.” 

The blond goes _beet_ red and sputters. “I am _not,_ and you know it!” 

“Yer hand don’t count,” Gladio laughs. 

“Gentlemen,” says Tenebraen sex-on-legs. “Can we please just relax and have drinks like a normal family?” 

“Yeah, don’t make me turn this station wagon around,” the prince mutters. 

You choke out a laugh, causing all of them to turn their attention to you. “Sorry, I, uh—you guys are just really funny.” You start to mix the prince’s drink first. “So, a sandy shorts, a virgin hurricane--” 

“ _Not_ a virgin hurricane,” the blond corrects with a high-pitched groan. 

You smirk and nod. “As you wish, doll,” which makes him turn even redder. “And for you, uh--” 

“Gladiolus, but Gladio is fine,” hunky beefcake says with another wink. “I’ll just have a classic bourbon sour.” 

Once everyone has their drinks, you finally feel yourself start to settle back down, heartbeat returning to normal. Prince Noctis looks about three seconds away from falling asleep at the bar, Tenebrae is idly playing with the hairs on the back of his neck, and Blondie and Gladio are teasing each other in a casually intimate way. You wonder if they’re all _together_ together—but before you can make further conversation, Gladio finishes his drink and slides the empty glass across the bar, honey amber eyes twinkling as his broad face twists into a lopsided grin. 

“So, baby, you free later?” 

The question nearly knocks you off your feet. You’re used to being hit on occasionally, but most of the patrons who frequent this hotel are married or with long-time partners or mistresses, so it doesn’t happen often. And, well, to be frank—you don’t fit the mold of “beach bombshell,” either. You think you’re rather plain looking, with a shorter-than-model-stature and chunky weight nearly everywhere that still makes you self-conscious even on the best of days. 

“Gladiolus,” says Tenebrae, rolling his eyes. “Do let the poor woman work.” 

“Don’t ruin my vibe, Iggy,” Gladio hisses. 

A soft snore comes from the prince—he's drooling on your counter, and damn, it shouldn’t be as adorable as it is. 

“I, uh,” you say, brain short-circuiting. “I’m--free?” 

“Can I take you out?” 

“No _fair_ ,” Blondie huffs under his breath. “You _always_ get the girls...” 

You flick your eyes between the two, gulping hard. “I mean, uh. You’re both really hot—shit, _all_ of you are hot, I--” 

“Oh?” Tenebrae sets his drink down and gives you his full attention, even pulling his hand away from the prince’s hair. “I’m certainly partial to the idea of sharing, if you are.” 

You think that you _must_ be dreaming as he continues. “We’re all sort of together,” he says, voice as calm as though he’s reciting a shopping list. “You are welcome to be with any one of us—or all of us, should you choose.” 

You look at the prince. “And his Highness is in on this?” 

Gladio grins wide. “Baby, it was his Highness that pulled us all into his bed in the first place.” 

“You’re all poly,” you confirm, and the three of them nod. The cute, chipper blond looks to be the most excited by the idea. While he might not be a virgin with guys, you wonder how many girls he’s had in his life. You find yourself excited to show him what you’re made of. 

“I suppose introductions are in order. My name is Ignis Scientia, chamberlain and adviser to his Highness. This is the royal himself, Noctis, of course.” Ignis motions to the slender blond. “This is Prompto Argentum, best friend and Crownsguard to Noct. And that’s Gladiolus Amicitia, sworn shield of the Crown Prince.” 

You nod, licking your lips. You’re slightly intimidated by the noble bodyguards of the prince, but their kind, casual way of interacting with you and each other helps to put you at ease. “I’m _____________ _____________,” you say, scratching your neck nervously. “Um. My shift here ends at seven-thirty.” 

“Brilliant,” says Ignis. “We’ve a beach house just down the way. We’ll come escort you there when your bar is closed.” He smiles, emerald eyes threatening to melt you down to a flustered pile of goop. 

“Uh, yeah. Sounds—great, I look forward to it.” 

“Mmmmmm, a night in,” says Gladio, tilting his head and sizing you up even more. “Can’t wait.” 

Prompto says nothing, only flushes red and focuses on drinking more of his hurricane. Feeling a little emboldened by your future prospects, you lean over the counter and get inches from his face, getting a close-up view of the constellations of freckles that dance across his nose. “You should be more confident, Prompto. You’re super hot. Can I kiss you?” 

Prompto makes a strangled noise in the back of his throat and manages to nod. 

You press your lips to his and you feel his body go slack as he struggles to breathe properly. He’s an experienced kisser, though, and he matches every push and pull of your mouth with vigor. When you pull away, he opens his violet-blue eyes and they’re absolutely blown out with arousal, freckles dark under flushed cheeks, red lips slicked with spit and kiss-swollen. 

“Can’t wait to gobble you up later,” you say as you draw back behind the counter. 

“Right!” he manages to say. “Uh, me too!” 

You laugh, turning to Gladio, who’s actually pouting. “Don’t worry, I’m sure you can wait your turn.” 

“I don’t _want_ to,” Gladio huffs, licking his lips. 

Ignis finishes his drink and slides the empty glass to you, along with payment for all of their concoctions, and a pretty sizeable tip. “Let’s go. We’ve made a pretty delicious catch, if I do say so myself.” He winks at you and rises, gently shaking Noctis awake. “We’ll see you at seven-thirty, darling.” 

“What’d I miss,” says Noctis, yawning and stumbling into his adviser’s side. 

“I’ll debrief you later, Noct,” Ignis purrs as he pets the prince’s hair. 

You watch the four men return to their spot on the beach, and shiver in anticipation. Something tells you you’re in for a hell of a night. 


End file.
